


I'm waiting for this

by youngerdrgrey



Category: Glee
Genre: Angst, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season 3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 11:45:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngerdrgrey/pseuds/youngerdrgrey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt's taken on the role of keeping Dave safe and happy, not knowing how it well affect the other relationships in his life. Angst!angry!fighting!Kurt/Blaine, hints of Kurt/Karofsky.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm waiting for this

It's a Tuesday when it happens. The sun is high in the sky, bright enough to bring out the sunglasses and the cheesy sun hats. It's hot. Really hot. So hot, in fact, that Kurt is sweating already when he picks up his phone. He doubts it's too noticeable, but he can't help but wonder if it's a sign. It could be foreshadowing looming over him, a promise of the terrible horrors to come. It could also just be a reaction to sitting outside for lunch in the grass instead of in the quad or the cafeteria. But it's a Tuesday. Tuesdays are the days when Kurt sits alone at lunch. Physically alone. He spends the forty-five minutes talking to Dave on the phone. Weekly updates to keep the stronger boy on track. Keep them both on track really. It's only been happening for a month. Four Tuesdays. Yet, when Kurt picks up the phone and there isn't a text from Dave saying that they're a go, he gets this feeling, like his sweating really is some odd cosmic foreshadowing, like the emptiness on the screen of his iPhone mirrors the emptiness inside of him, like... like something really bad happened. He sends Dave a text.  **All engines go.**  But there's no response.  **Hey, you asleep or something? Check in time.**  A minute goes by.  **David?**  Thirty seconds.  **I'm calling you in one minute and if you don't answer, I'm coming over to your house and kicking your butt personally.**  It's the slowest minute Kurt's had in a while. Painstakingly more tiring than when he first found out about Quinn, because at least then he had Blaine to curl in to. Now he has the patch of grass he sits on once a week, the blazing sun, and the mini-photo montage he calls a phone background. It's four pictures poorly put together on some collage making app he downloaded, used once, and deleted. One picture of him and Blaine from _that night_ , a picture with Rachel and their NYADA finalist letters, a picture with Quinn in the hospital, and a picture with Dave at the zoo of all places. Four pictures that he treasures because they're people that matter. These people matter. A lot of other people should be there - Mercedes, his dad, Carole, Finn - but he's not changing it for a while. The only change that it will go through is when the phone  _finally_  changes to read 12:16. The moment it does, Kurt is hitting Dave's name in his contacts. And it rings. And it rings. And it rings. His heart picks up to go at the same pace. He wonders what Dave could be doing. Dave's new school is off today. Teacher work day. Maybe he is just sleeping. That could happen. Dave could sleep in past nine in the morning if he was up late. But he wasn't up late. He turned in at ten. He sent Kurt a text saying he was going to bed. It doesn't make sense. Where's Dave?

_"Hey, it's Dave. I'm not at my phone right now. Leave a message and I'll call you back. If I feel like it that is. Ha."_

Kurt hangs up and dials again. More ringing.  _"Hey, it's Da-"_  More dialing. More ringing. More waiting. Kurt's mind starts supplying other reasons why Dave can't answer. He's making lunch. He's talking to his parents. He left it at home. He's in his car. He crashed his car. On purpose. He's dead. He's dying. He's sad. He's alone. He needs Kurt. He needs someone. Anyone. Where is Kurt? Why is Kurt not there to help him? It's his job to help Dave!  _"Hey-"_

"Hey."

Kurt flinches at the sound. He looks up and the sun is blinding for a moment. Still, he makes out the curly hair and the concerned look. Blaine. That's not the boy he's been trying to reach.

"It's Tuesday, Blaine," Kurt says. It's an explanation, but also a reprimand. Blaine knows not to bother Kurt today. It's the one time when Kurt is not available to anyone else. Everyone knows this. Blaine can't just waltz in and-

"It's sixth period, Kurt," Blaine says.

"What? It can't be. It's only-" Kurt glances back down to his phone. 1:04. "Oh." How could it be 1:04? Kurt never talked to Dave. It can't be. No.

"Yeah. Come on. We've got to go. We're already going to be late."

But Kurt can't go. He can't move. He has to check in. He can't go to class and turn off his phone. He has to be ready to talk to Dave. He just has to.

"One more minute?"

"You'll be late."

"It's Ceramics. It doesn't matter," Kurt says.

"It does to me. You don't want anything to hurt your grade. NYADA-"

"Don't," Kurt snaps. Blaine flinches slightly. Kurt goes on, "You're not graduating. You don't know what it's like to wait and freak out over your dream school. You don't get to play the NYADA card."

"And you don't get to sit out here throwing away everything just because it's  _Tuesday_." The word slides off of Blaine's tongue like acid, like it pains him to even say it. It's ridiculous. The contempt he feels is ridiculous. It's a day of the week. The one day that Kurt doesn't spend all of his time with Blaine. Why doesn't he understand?

"It's not because it's a Tuesday," Kurt argues. Blaine's face hardens further.

"Then what is it, Kurt? Is it Karofsky?"

"David," he corrects instinctively.

Blaine scoffs. "Right. David. And what did David say today, Kurt? What fun tales does he have from his new school? Did he get an A on that Calculus test? I know how hard it was for him to figure out the integrals."

Now Kurt's eyes narrow. "Stop mocking him. This stuff is hard. You're just in Pre-Calc-"

"Because they refused to accept that I already took it. Stop acting like I'm younger and don't understand. I get it. I get it all. You're the one who doesn't get it."

Kurt blanks. "What?"

And Blaine scoffs, again. " _David_  loves you. He would do anything to have you. And he's your friend, so you'll do anything to help him. You'll text him night and day, sit in the grass in your brand new outfit, and even ditch glee a few times to trek out to Siberia to make him happy. You might be helping him, but you're hurting yourself. When was the last time you did something that wasn't for him or school or-"

"Last week. We went out and-"

"And you left after the movie to go home and talk to him."

"You said you wanted to see a movie, Blaine. We saw a movie. I'm sorry if David's issues get in the way of your sex life."

Blaine screams, "It's not about sex, Kurt! It's - I - you spend more time getting ready in the mornings, covering up the bags under your eyes, because you don't sleep enough. You're not taking care of yourself anymore."

"I-"

"Look at your lap, Kurt." They both do. There's a full tray on top of it, food untouched. "You didn't even eat your lunch. You look like you've been having a panic attack over here. I just want you to think about yourself."

"I can't. David needs me," Kurt says.

"And I need you. I love-"

_Life's too short to even care at all. Ooh oh oh._

Blaine sighs. The screen finally comes to life, that same picture from the zoo now taking up the whole thing. Kurt stares at it, then back to Blaine, and then back to the phone.

Kurt says, "I-"  _Losing my mind, losing my mind, losing control_. "I've got to... We'll talk about this later?" he asks softly, like saying it any louder would hurt them, like it's the final drop of water that sends the bridge tumbling down. Blaine opens his mouth to say something, but he closes it back. He can't say whatever it is he wants to. Not in the few seconds before Dave's call goes to voicemail and Kurt loses focus. But maybe it's not just focus that Kurt's losing with every call, every lunch, every day spent; maybe it's Blaine.

"You can talk about it with Dave."

That should be an attack, some bitter, jealous comment that Kurt can shrug off. But it isn't. Because Kurt can talk about it with Dave. He would. He talks about everything with him. When was the last time he did that with Blaine? He can't even remember. After Quinn? Before Sebastian? When? He tries to think, but he can't focus. Not when the sun isn't just bright, it's blistering. And that sweat he felt is chaffing at his skin, peeling away at the layers that are supposed to be protecting him. From the outside, from the pain, from himself. This isn't supposed to happen. Kurt's supposed to eat his lunch and talk to Dave and then walk to class with his boyfriend. He's not supposed to watch Blaine walk away, hear the bell ringing in the background, and just be hitting answer. But that's what does happen.

"Kurt, I'm so sorry I'm late. I just,  _God_ , my mom and I were talking. She's getting better. She's coming around to the idea that maybe this isn't a bad thing. Maybe I can still be happy. Some Tuesday, huh?"

"Yeah," Kurt says as the last trace of Blaine disappears, "Some Tuesday."


End file.
